Yup, seems I've gone and gotten older again. Wooooeeeee.
It took me two years to get over turning thirty. The year leading up and the year after. Once I did become accustomed to it, age kind of didn't matter any more.
When Spaghetti turned 35 she had a hard time with it. Seems it was her 'turning point' age. I asked her, but she could never explain the significance of that year.
I don't know, maybe it is because I look young and can act young that age doesn't bug me so much. (Not that Spaghetti looks or acts any older than myself; I just know firsthand that I get verbal reinforcement all the time to set my mind at ease.) Or maybe that my health is so kooky that I don't feel intimidated by what may come.
Maybe it is because my dream in life was to live in NYC, and I have already accomplished that. Every morning I leave my apartment and look at the skyline, thinking, "this is awesome".
Honestly, I think that acceptance of aging comes with taking stock. Many things that most people measure their lives with never held any weight with me.
Marriage, children, money. I don't care.
Friends, adventures, knowledge. These are the things I hold stock in.
As for goals in the upcoming year, I am at a loss. RFW aptly pointed out my indecision about potentially running the marathon this year as being due to my need to have goals. I am a goal-oriented person, and if I can't find a new one than another 26.2 will do. So how about I make taking the GRE one? Why not?
And maybe picking my next direction. Once I chose a path then life is in motion again...regardless of the destination.
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